VALERIANA OFFICINALIS
by Yolea Irk's
Summary: "Excuse me if I'm peeked. I was curious!" little Seiya –the would be Pegasus Saint- puffed defensively, oblivious to my inner hysterical. The memory of prior life was resurfaced. Many times my past father asked if I'm ready for my life. I doubt I'd be ready for this one. MuxSI!OCxSeiya. Continue, hectic update.


Summary: "Excuse me if I'm peeked. I was curious!" little Seiya –the would be Pegasus Saint- puffed defensively, oblivious to my inner hysterical. The memory of prior life was resurfaced. Many times my past father asked if I'm ready for my life. I doubt I'd be ready for this one. SI!OCxSeiya. One-shot. May continue, depend on reviews.

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VALERIANA OFFICINALIS

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I was merely a graduate student young woman.

Hanging out with friends and laughing. Eating dinner with father and mother as we chattered things. Sometimes my elder brother and his wife came and joining in.

Then before the final semester began, I died.

My life come to an end.

And then I woke up once more.

-o-o-o-o-o-

I do not believed in reincarnation. Back from the dead or coma I could fathom but never reincarnation. Which bring me to my newest predicament.

I'm alive. Again. Yet rather than reborn, I woke up in a body of a child.

Angkasa Yudari Sekewael, 6 years old. Born from Indonesian mother and father, previously lived in Jakarta before moved to Tokyo, autumn last year. Second child from two siblings. An adventurous child and has a big love for books, going around, and cats.

My name was never Angkasa, I had a different name once upon a time.

And now I _am_ Angkasa.

Alone in this white and sterile room and widely gazed at the mirror. Gray eyes, brown hair, beige skin, chubby cheeks, and limbs. The bandages wrapped on the head and arms.

A memory of not my own flowed in. Angkasa's memory, showed of clear blue sky and a picnic tour. The memory of excited squeals and laughs echoed at the bus' background. The memory a truck came to the view. Of screams and cries and crash, full of pain and agony. Then nothing.

Only then everything was clear.

We died at the same time. Yet my soul somehow got pulled into her empty body and I lived.

Angkasa never made it.

Pain and guilty wretched and twisted so ugly. My heart hurt so, so much.

So I cried for the soul unknowingly lost to her family. I wept for the girl who lost her future so soon. Shed tears for this would be amazing little sunshine whose life I'm now living.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A nurse and a woman came in not long after. The woman was Angkasa's mother. She has my past mother's face, nearly drove me crumble into pieces. She was with me inside the bus and only suffered minor scratches.

Angkasa's father and older brother arrived later. They too, shared same faces as my past father and brother. I have no idea which one was worse. The fact that I'd replaced their little girl. Or that they wore the achingly familiar faces I thought I'd never see again.

Few months after discharged from hospital were never easier either.

Angkasa's family –I'm not ready to call them _my_ family, not yet-, was a blessing. They do their best to help me heal. In spite the guilt, I felt extremely grateful for their presence.

It'll take times, perhaps years to overcome this obstacle.

But for the soul now gone to the afterlife, I must continued living in her stead.

That was the least I can do as Angkasa Yudari Sekewael.

-o-

Time sure fleet once you settled on your life.

Summer has arrived. For mother, June was harvest time. Yup, you heard me, I called her mother after few months of chopping and learning. Same thing goes with father and Bang (older brother) Agung. An accomplishment I'm proud at, mind you. Back to the harvest, mother has this hobby to grow several herbs and fruits.

Strawberries were my favorites. Lots have been harvested today, all of them were big and sweet.

Washed them was my next job when a yelp came from behind the hedge. Curious, my feet took me out through the gate. It didn't take long before I found what I was looking for. A boy sat on the concrete, hissing in pain. Few leaves stuck on his wild mane, giving me the picture.

He was around my age. Brown spiky hair, butterscotch colored skin, and slightly taller. And he looked very familiar. Could've sworn I've seen that face somewhere before. His eyes however were what caught my attention.

Mesmerizing shade of fertile soil in spring and favorite hot chocolate in cold weather.

How is it possible such lively and heart-warming color existed?

"That's a quite fall." The words spurted before I can stop it.

His ears gained pink hue. Interesting. "S-Shut up! It's none of your business!"

For a little boy, he sure acted tough and not having his dignity bruised either.

Merely crossing arms, I adopted the most unimpressed look.

"It is mine when you ogled the strawberries in our garden."

The hue drastically spread and his whole face went redder than a tomato. The stutter he blurted was actually adorable but only lasted so brief. Instead the red shirt boy pouted and stubbornly averted his gaze. Guess even boys cannot resist fresh, newly harvested strawberries. An idea popped out.

"Wait here." I ran inside and soon return, borrowing a basket full of strawberries.

The boy stood up and taking a step back. "Wha…?!"

Ignored his shock, I shoved the basket into his arms. "For you!"

A splutter came from the flabbergasted boy. "What for!? They're all yours, I can't take them!"

Wow. He might be a bit rude but he does have a good heart. And he was honest, another point plus for me. Guess the say of never judge the book by its cover wasn't entirely wrong.

"Mother will not mind. Besides we've took some so you can have them."

Hesitant brown eyes shifted back and forth between the basket and my direction.

"Try it. You'll love it at the first bite!"

Following the suggestion, his small hand slowly fished out a strawberry from the basket. A bite and few chews and the boy beamed in no time. His brown eyes gleamed from childish joy and delight.

"So sweet! It's so sweet and crunchy and yummy!"

"Told you." Strawberry was the best! "My name is Angkasa but you can call me Asa. You are?"

The boy grinned so wide, bright as the sun itself –so warm, protective, and safelovelysadhurt-.

"Seiya. The name is Seiya! Thanks a lot for these, Seika-nee'd love them."

… _Oh._

No wonder he didn't feel foreign. Brown eyes and hair, loud voice, red shirt.

Star Child Orphanage. Seika-nee.

Of course.

There was only one Seiya I was familiar of and he was a fictional character of a famous series. A story told of powerful warriors hailed from Greek pantheons, fight the evil by their war goddess' side. Their feet capable of shattered earth and their fists can divide sky.

One of them –the protagonist, the hero- stood before me.

"Angkasa, you may call me Asa." Eyeing him –the Godslayer-, I spoke up my thought. "For a brassy boy who peeked around, you are polite."

His expression soon morphed into one of dismayed.

"Excuse me if I'm peeked. I was curious!" little Seiya – the would be Pegasus Saint- puffed defensively, oblivious to my inner hysterical.

The memory of prior life was resurfaced. Many times my past father asked if I'm ready for my life.

I doubt I'd be ready for this one.

(Open your eyes. Hold your breath.)

(The curtain of Godslayer and Horizon girl's grand tale has been lifted.)

(Watch out.)

(For they will take the world by the storm.)


End file.
